Ghosts of the Erlyn (Catalyst Book 3), C.J. Aaron [book recommendations .TXT] 📗

“Perhaps much more has changed outside the walls while you’ve been locked away?”

“Perhaps. I can only hope your words are true,” Ryl said. “How far are we from Geshill’s and Milstead now?

Aldren put his hand on Ryl’s shoulder giving it a healthy, fatherly squeeze.

“It’s less than ten miles to the heart of Milstead. Geshill’s is less than half that,” he replied. “Come, there is an overlook just through these trees. See for yourself.”

The merchant turned quickly, leading the way from the wagon for a short distance before turning left and entering a small trail through the trees. Ryl and Andr followed closely in his wake. Kaep leaned against the back frame of the carriage as they departed, maintaining a vigilant watch over Elias and the tributes. Dav remained as the lone sentry, patrolling the quiet offshoot for the approach of their companions or any others.

The narrow, rocky path wound its way through the forest before abruptly ending on the head of a large flat stone. The road they’d traveled ran across the top of a long ridgeline. The land in front of them sloped downward for perhaps thirty meters before continuing in rolling hills and patches of forests.

“The lights you see to the west are that of Milstead,” Aldren explained as he pointed his hand outward to their right. Though it was well after dark, the village that spread out in the distance looked far larger than Serrate. The streets leading into the settlement were lit by evenly spaced torches. From this distance, their flickering beacons betrayed very few details through the darkness. The main square however, was brightly illuminated by the steady light of multiple lanterns.

“That large building you see there,” Aldren continued. “That’s Milstead’s pride and joy. The distillery. Some of the highest priced spirits in all the Kingdom come from that building. Strangely enough, there’s very little farmland around here. If the rumors are correct, I have a feeling you may have been personally responsible for growing a fair share of the grain they use.”

Ryl nodded his head but said nothing. Sub-master Millis had confirmed the fact when they’d shared a bottle of potent liquor. He could still feel the heat of the liquid as it coated his throat, spreading its warmth throughout his body once it reached his stomach.

The memory was mildly cathartic. He’d valued the short yet meaningful bond he’d created with the sub-master and captain.

His thoughts turned to Millis and to Captain Le’Dral. He intended to put on a show the likes of which the Harvest had never seen. He aimed for it to be a fitting finale to the ceremony’s existence. Yet, what would they do when he arrived?

Would they stand in his way? Would they lead their troops into battle or would they cede The Stocks without a fight?

Ryl quickly returned his wandering mind back to the present. There were no simple answers to his questions. Though in his mind it was merely a matter of right from wrong, he understood that for others there was no cut and dry solution. The decision he’d soon be asking them to make would have wide reaching implications. They bore the potential to affect the course of a Kingdom. Their lives, their family’s lives, could hang in the balance of their actions.

Aldren continued his description, breaking him from his momentary thoughts.

“That small grouping of lights directly in front of us, those are the lights of Geshill’s farm,” the merchant pointed out. “In the distance, those pinpoints of light on the horizon … those are the eastern Palisades.”

Ryl rapidly catalogued the sights before him. He closed his eyes, searching the surroundings again with his mindsight. All was still to his front. Behind them, he noted the faint appearance of two additional signatures.

“Thank you, Aldren,” he said genuinely. “Let’s head back, the second wagon draws near.”

Aldren gave him a curious look as if wondering how he’d known of their imminent arrival. The night was still quiet, no noise of the wagon or the horses had yet reached their ears. In the end, the merchant just shrugged his shoulders, leading the way with his lantern held out in front of him.

As they reached the road, the sound of the approaching companions met their ears. The even cadence of the horses’ gait grew steadily as they hastened back to their wagon. The lantern suspended from the front of the black wagon swung slowly in the darkness. The ominous black figures of Ramm and Vox were illuminated by a swaying halo of light.

The wagon pulled to a stop to the rear of Aldren’s. Ramm and Vox eagerly swung down from the head, stretching as they hit the ground. It had been a long day of travel for all, and they were yet to finish. It was only a matter of moments later that Dav and Nielix approached from the darkened road behind them. Soldi hopped down from the back of the wagon, walking stiffly as he followed the phrenics to the rest of their group.

“Welcome, friends,” Aldren announced as they met alongside his wagon. “Our day’s journey is almost done.”

Vox muttered something unintelligible under his breath as the merchant continued.

“We make for Geshill’s farm,” he reiterated. “Once you join with the main road, it’s only a mile or so before you reach the turnoff to the left that will lead you to his doorstep.”

“We’ll maintain the same groups. Hold your position out of sight until our welcome has been assured. Dav will return for you when it’s safe,” Andr dictated. “It shouldn’t be long now.”

“Aye,” Ramm grumbled. “What of the riders you met on the road?”

“Hunters,” Ryl spat. “They stalk a girl and her father. They fled your arrival. One was injured, but they hunt for a living. They’ll not rest if they think their prey moves under the cover of darkness.”

“Injured, you say?” Vox added with a smile. “How’d that happen?”

Ryl responded with a crooked grin and a slight shake of his head.

“Stay alert,” Ryl warned. “For